


My Best Friend

by pr0blematic



Series: Tommy Angst [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exile, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Ghosts, Loneliness, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), NO Ghostbur, Not Canon Compliant, Tired Tommyinnit, Wilbur is dead, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr0blematic/pseuds/pr0blematic
Summary: tommy gets a visitor in exile.tommy wishes they'd get lost.
Series: Tommy Angst [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980241
Comments: 3
Kudos: 125





	My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> i don't want to spoil anything but i love this idea

Tommy looked around his new land.

Dream had just left him in exile with the bare minimum of supplies and Tommy was trying to figure out what he should do first.

Make shelter?

Find food?

Start a fire?

It seemed like when stranded, a lot of people chose to start a fire. Tommy glanced around his little woods and frowned at the trees around him. It would be hard to start a fire without flint or coal. He’d have to do it manually like some survivor guy shit and rub sticks together.

Tommy thought back to how Tubbo had exiled him. Bitch hadn’t even seen him off, he let Dream do the dirty work.

Tommy let out a bitter scoff. _Dream doing the dirty work_. He let Wilbur do it last time.

It was quiet here.

That was the first thing Tommy noticed, when Dream rowed away. Getting smaller and smaller until he was out of sight.

There weren’t birds chirping or bees buzzing here. It was creepy and the silence made Tommy’s skin crawl.

Even when everyone was gone in L’Manberg, there was always noise. A stray villager, a heard of cows, dogs barking; there was always some sort of sound.

Hell, even Pogtopia had more noise than this. Cave bats and Techno farming.

In exile, there was nothing. Distantly, Tommy could hear the crash of waves on the beach; but the shore was grey and had more rocks than sand. When Tommy walked on it to get to his new home, he could feel the jagged edges through his leather shoes.

Needless to say, it wasn’t an ideal spot.

Tommy stared at the water for a minute or two longer.

A part of him was still convinced this was a prank and Dream would pop up on the horizon with Tubbo in tow and the two would bring him back to Manburg, but.

No one came.

It was midday when Tommy was exiled, and in the late afternoon he actually started building his camp.

Since he was still convinced this was temporary, he made himself a tent out of the supplies he’d been allowed to take with him.

His tent was very modest; at best it was a weather-proof blanket draped over a wooden frame. He was exposed with the lack of flaps; on the north and south sides of his tent there was a gaping hole. It wasn’t the best, but it would keep him dry if it rained.

He made his bed and set up his ender chest.

He finished putting the sheets on his bed and paused with his hands still on the covers, staring blankly at them. He felt the hardness of the ground and the cold seep into his skin through his pants. He’d set up his tent on a dirt clearing, and though it hadn’t rained, the dirt still held a bit of moisture that Tommy could feel making his knees wet.

He took in a stuttering breath when he realised _this_ was his new home.

He couldn’t hear any sheep or cows or pigs. Not even a chicken. Was he supposed to live off of berries?

Niki had slipped him a few loaves of bread that would last him for two days if he didn’t waste his energy.

Tommy pushed himself off the ground and slowly let himself sink onto his bed. He dug his fingers into the thin mattress and tried to grin.

This was all temporary.

He was Tommy Innit! He could do anything! He didn’t need those bitches back in Manburg!

Of course not.

Tommy had been living on his own for almost two weeks.

His nights were restless; there were constant attacks from mobs that would wake him up throughout the night. Tommy counted himself lucky that no witch or pillager had found their way here.

The nights got cold; another thing that kept him up.

Already, the weather was changing. It got less warm and for less time. Soon, Tommy would need thicker clothing, but so far, he’d only been able to kill one sheep. The wool he got from it wasn’t even enough to make a shirt, let alone a winter coat or thicker blanket.

It was day two without food and Tommy spent his afternoon with his pant legs rolled up to his knees as he waded in the ocean with a fishing pole he made out of a stick and spider web he found.

The water was cold and bit at Tommy’s skin, but after a while he grew used to it and he stopped shivering. When Tommy had to change spots, he’d look down and see his skin was a bright pink, but he ignored that it was a bad thing.

After two hours, he caught a small salmon.

With his shoulders slumped, he shuffled to his camp; dripping water on the way there because he didn’t have a towel and he hadn’t worn his shoes. The soles of his feet had already toughed up over the past few days.

He made a campfire to cook his fish and sat on a log. He put his head in his hand and tried not to feel miserable.

His shoulders tensed when he heard the leaves behind him rustle.

Dream showed up once a week to burn Tommy’s tools and make him start over, and no one else visited. It wasn’t dark out yet, so it shouldn’t be a mob, but Tommy’s never had a good track record with luck.

Slowly, because Tommy almost didn’t want to look and rather pretend nothing was there, he turned his head towards the noise.

Tommy blinked once. Twice. Then let out a low groan and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He heard a loud cackle and squeezed his eyes shut tighter behind his hands.

He pursed his lips and when everything went silent, he hesitantly peaked an eye out to see if he’d just hallucinated.

He dropped his hands with a huff and glared at the person now standing on the other side of the campfire.

Or, rather, the ghost floating on the other side of the campfire.

Tommy could see how this was funny. In a fucked-up, full circle kind of way.

“Tommy Innit, how far you’ve fallen!”

Tommy could only hatefully glare at the face of the ~~man~~ ghost in front of him. “What are you doing here, Schlatt?”


End file.
